Confessing to the Unconscious
by messed up stargazer
Summary: Three in my 'Useful Platitudes and Skin Contact' series. Grantaire is the only one in the Musain when Enjolras sleepwalks there, looking for the drunkard. The conversation that follows Grantaire can only hope Enjolras doesn't remember. R&R!


"Grantaire?" Enjolras's voice was slow, unsure, and drawled, the exact opposite of how it should be. It sobered the drunkard enough to leap from his chair, only stumble slightly because his precious green faery had dulled his movements, to find the source of Enjolras's voice.

Enjolras stood in the doorway of the Musain, swaying slightly, dressed in his night-clothes. He didn't seem to be wounded, just confused. As if he wasn't sure why he was there. _Strange_, Grantaire thought, _if Enjolras is anything it's sure_.

"Enjolras?" Grantaire thought aloud. If Enjolras was confused, Grantaire was mystified at his friend.

"You never told me what made you cry that night. You said nothing at breakfast." Enjolras said bluntly.

Grantaire slowly approached his leader, and noticed his eyes were only half-open and glazed over.

"Are you asleep?" Grantaire asked, incredulous.

"Of course not. Sleeping people do not walk and talk." Enjolras snapped, sounding like himself except his expression was still confused.

"That_ is_ possible, my friend." Grantaire decided Enjolras was indeed asleep as he walked and talked.

"That does not matter. Tell me. I cannot sleep without that knowledge." Enjolras dismissed.

_That's a lie. He's sleeping right now_, said the little voice in his head. The one that had showed up after everything that happened with his family and only stayed silent with drink.

"I am not sure I wish you to know." Grantaire said, trying to lead his friend over to a chair so he could sleep in peace.

"Please." Enjolras's voice suddenly sounded clear, as if he had woken, and heartbroken. Grantaire remembered the first time he caught Enjolras asleep, and he'd spoken of how much he cared for his winecask. Sighing, he hoped Enjolras did not remember this the next morning. It would be too mortifying.

"All right. But you must never speak of it." Grantaire stated firmly.

"I know how to keep a secret." Enjolras promised.

_Unless you're sleeping_, the voice persisted.

_Shut up. I trust him. I do not wish to hear from you tonight_. Grantaire scolded himself and pulled Enjolras over to the chair he was previously in.

Unfortunately, Enjolras did not fall asleep again as Grantaire had hoped. Enjolras just sat there, admittingly looking less confused than before, and seemed to wait. He was waiting for Grantaire. So Grantaire sat at his feet. Sighing, he knew he owed Apollo an explanation of his actions. He just hoped this wouldn't worry him more. He found a spot to concentrate, as he could not look at Enjolras, and began.

"When I was ten, my father gave me wine for the first time. I hated it. But he told me to keep drinking. My father was a brute, if he didn't get his way there would be... complications. I never wanted to complicate matters in my house so I kept drinking. My mother came down to see what was making all the noise when I drank so much I was sick. My father told me to keep drinking and I passed out soon after that. I don't remember too much about that night but everything changed. My mother was quiet, subdued and the next morning I'm almost sure she was limping afterwards but my hangover was so bad I barely got out of bed. Soon, it became routine in my house. My father would pour me glass after glass, my mother would come down, I'd pass out and she'd be hurt the next day. It didn't take a genius to figure out what was going on when I was unconscious. So one night, when my father was out, I snuck into my mother's room and told her I was going to rescue her. She was so sad to hear me say that. She said she was supposed to tell me that, she was supposed to keep me safe. I told her we'd keep each other safe. She smiled at that. I remember that smile. It was the last one I ever saw. When the night came that my mother and I were going to steal away, my father called me down. Acting nonchalant, I went down. I knew he beat my mother, but that night, he hit me for the first time. He didn't knock me out though, that came later. I stayed awake long enough to hear my mother scream bloody murder. After, he came back down and noticed I was still conscious. He pulled me outside and I tried to run, scream, anything to try to get back to my mother. We lived in a populated area. No one came. Everyone heard me, but no one came. I didn't last long once we reached the river. I blacked out as the water started to fill my lungs. When I came to, I was at home. My mother vanished. I never saw her again. My father told me if I was a good kid and did what I was told, I could know what happened for my eighteenth birthday present. Out of love, I did everything he asked. I became my father's unwilling sparring partner. I often screamed, but still no one came. No one ever came. My mother was a good woman and she deserved a proper send-off. I have no doubt she's dead. But... on the eve of my eighteenth birthday, my father gave me a kiss good night and disappeared into his room. I fell asleep as quick as I could, hoping to finally find out what happened to my mother. When I ran into his room the next morning, I found he had hung himself. He wrote six words on his desk. _She sleeps now so do I_. I don't know whether this was his way of telling me or giving me a final blow. Ever since, I have a voice in my head. His. I can only silence it by drinking... I- I dreamt he was beating my mother once more and then he moved on to me once she died. It's one I have often."

Fighting back tears, Grantaire looked at Enjolras. Enjolras was crying. Not sobbing but it was clear tears were falling down Enjolras's face. A look of pain and sympathy had replaced the confused one. Grantaire preferred the confused look.

"I am so sorry. I should've known you had a reason for drinking. I speak against prejudice and here I am judging you for something I know nothing about." Enjolras whispered, still in his trance.

"Do not fret, my friend. I am fine." Grantaire lied. "You need to sleep."

"You never found her body? No letters?" Enjolras persisted.

"I searched his room for an entire week. I found nothing. I can only hope he buried her when I was unconscious." Grantaire answered.

"Tell me about her." Enjolras demanded.

"She looked like me, black, curly hair, with a soft face. I have my father's eyes though. Hers were almost golden and full of such love and kindness. She was promised to my father when she was eighteen. And for a time, I know she loved him. She had to. She never once went to the authorities, even telling me I shouldn't. Granted, I probably would've been arrested as well, wine is illegal at that age, but I know she saw something good in him. She saw the good in everyone. She would've been a part of your cause Apollo. She believed in the good in people, as you do. She would've loved you." Grantaire rubbed his shirt against his face to try to hide the tears wanting to stream freely down his cheeks.

"I feel I would return the sentiment." Enjolras murmured.

"Enjolras, you have what you came for. Please, you must sleep now. Combeferre will be worried you're not at home." Grantaire shoved his emotions away and tried to focus on getting Enjolras home safely, his main priority.

"Grantaire?" Enjolras asked.

"Yes?" Grantaire responded.

"I cannot say anything that will make the pain ease but know this. I do sympathize. I understand." Enjolras yawned, his purpose fulfilled. Grantaire knew Enjolras was falling asleep once more as his voice was getting slower and softer.

"I wish you did not." Grantaire muttered bitterly. His friend should not have to feel such pain.

Enjolras suddenly went limp, deeply asleep, and Grantaire jumped forward to catch his friend before he fell onto the floor. Knowing he could not leave Enjolras here, Combeferre was quite worried when he found them the morning after the night it all started, something about sending the young medical student into shock when he realized Enjolras hadn't come home that night, he tried to be graceful, failed slightly, but managed to pick Enjolras up without waking him. Enjolras's head rested on his shoulder, and he relished the touch and the feeling of Apollo's soft breath against his skin. He had never felt more connected to his friend.

It wasn't until Grantaire took Enjolras home and tried to put him to bed that he noticed Enjolras had intertwined their fingers. Not wanting to hurt Enjolras, as his grip was quite firm, he simply lay down in the position Enjolras had been in so many moons ago. Then he realized he might not awaken before Enjolras or Combeferre so he did his best to write on the first thing he could find, which just happened to be the back of one of little drawings Grantaire thought Enjolras had thrown away, _I found Enjy sleepwalking in the Musain. I brought him home, except now I can't get him to let go. Sorry for the intrusion. _He had never been more pleased with being ambidextrous.

With their fingers loosely intertwined, nightmares of the past didn't touch the boys once more.

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**Hope you guys liked it. I'm open to suggestions on further works and constructive criticism. Please review! I will give you hugs!**


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